


See Me In Shadow

by RogueLadyVader (LaylaYuy)



Series: Lady’s Soft Wars Playground [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neyo’s Demons, Squad Edee, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaylaYuy/pseuds/RogueLadyVader
Summary: Sometimes when Neyo has a bad night, Vaughn has to call for backup. This time it’s Fox’s turn.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & CC-8826 | Neyo, CC-8826 | Neyo/CT-0292 | Vaughn
Series: Lady’s Soft Wars Playground [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068302
Comments: 27
Kudos: 109
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars, Soft Wars Fic Exchange





	See Me In Shadow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SailorSol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorSol/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sharing the Joy Around](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26647489) by [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506). 
  * Inspired by [What Money Can't Buy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27388501) by [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506). 



> Title from the song of the same name by Delain. 
> 
> **Extra thanks to:**  
>  Projie for letting me play in her world and answering my incessant questions.  
> CmonCmon for the beta and being my sounding board.  
> Everything_or_Anything for getting me started again when I was stuck.  
> I couldn’t have done this without you three!  
> Oya, Vode!
> 
> Timeline: After _Ever After, Happily_ and before _What Money Can’t Buy_. Both are part of Projie’s Soft Wars series.

He wakes up on edge, hand reaching for the other side of the bed before it registers he’s doing so. The sheets under his hand are cool, but not cold. Neyo’s only been out of bed a few minutes. 

Vaughn holds his breath, listening for any slight clue that will tell him what it is that has driven Neyo out of bed at 0430, leaving behind an air of tension and fear-sweat dampened sheets. 

A door slides open then closed at the front of the house. There is no sound of the caf maker warming up. No clinking of extra kibble added to Enentee’s perpetually full food bowl. WAC-47 isn’t greeting the morning with his usual commentary. 

This doesn’t bode well. 

When Neyo has bad nights, he finds every little way possible to punish and torment himself, pushing away any of the tiny comforts they were still learning how to include in their lives, returning to the most stark and austere pieces of Vode life. 

They have reached a compromise on shoes. It’s the only time Vaughn made a stand about Neyo’s self-flagellating tendencies. But after requiring bacta for frostbitten toes over the winter, Vaughn had teamed with Chaavla and Gish to insist that shoes were required below a certain temperature even after very bad nights. 

Neyo hadn’t been pleased. But when they made no move to further limit his self punishment, he had reluctantly agreed. 

Bacara had likely also said something; he and Neyo had been extra snippy for days afterwards. But Vaughn hadn’t wanted to overplay his hand by asking him directly. And the Valor CMO and 2IC were well-versed in Neyo-related damage control. 

Vaughn wishes he could do more to help, but Neyo’s demons are his own. 

It’s not the war. On those nights Vaughn woke with Neyo wrapped tightly around him, silently running scenarios through his mind of all the things he could have done better, understood faster, responded to more quickly that might have brought more of his men home. 

Vaughn holds him tight, talks until Neyo can calm his spinning mind. Reminds him of how his men call him their avenging angel, always right there with them, doing all he could do and more. 

Vaughn wasn’t a CC or battalion commander, but he led good men to their deaths too. Fought tooth and nail for ground that ultimately meant nothing in a war just as engineered as the Vode. And Neyo returns the favor when it’s Vaughn who crawls out of bed and stares at the stars, trying to settle his survivor’s debt. 

Touch helps on those nights. As does talking through doubts and fears. It’s something they work through together, though occasionally Neyo seeks out Bacara too. 

But what torments Neyo on nights like this is something else. 

Vaughn knows just enough to be certain it relates to the years he spent under Dred Priest’s control, ripped away from his CC squad and trained under conditions considered brutal even by GAR standards. But that is the sum total of Vaughn’s knowledge. And Neyo doesn’t have the words to talk about it, especially not with him. 

Early in their relationship, Vaughn had attempted to reach him, talking him back and holding him close. Neyo had tried to explain it to him after he forcefully pulled away one night, that his touch and his voice just made things worse. Something about them blended into the nightmare. And Neyo needed him to stay separate from the shadows if they were going to make things work.

It’s difficult to watch him hurting, but Vaughn respects what it cost Neyo to explain even that much. So he makes a point to keep his distance on mornings like this. 

He does, however, usually call for backup.

A quick comm call to Bacara typically results in Neyo making his way back to the house mid-afternoon, tired and cranky, but seeking out affection in his usual unsubtle ‘sneaky’ manner. For a man who leads the elite Mobile Recon Valors, Neyo has absolutely no subtlety off the battlefield. Exactly how The Marine accomplishes this, Vaughn doesn’t know and hasn’t asked. 

But the Novas are currently in the middle of a much-anticipated camping trip with their Littles and some of the older vod’ikase, somewhere in the lake district north of Concordia. They’ve even dragged a protesting Alpha-6 along. Rex has repeatedly mentioned that Bacara and his men were quite excited for the 5 day excursion. And Vaughn wouldn’t interrupt it even if it weren’t completely impractical. 

But it leaves him with a problem. Neyo will spend days stewing if left to his own devices, which isn’t a healthy option. 

The Valors will certainly come to rescue their commander if called. But experience has taught Vaughn that Neyo just shoves whatever it is back down to focus on his men. Like shoving a compression bandage on a wound, it mitigates the bleeding for a time. But it doesn’t address or heal the injury. Chaavla and Gish will get him back here before the day is out. But Vaughn will just have to call them again in two days, if not sooner. It’s not a tenable option long term. 

His best bet is seeing if Colt is available. He is familiar with Priest’s ways and isn’t subordinate to Neyo. Hopefully he can come by. 

With a weary sigh, Vaughn shoves himself out of bed and past Enentee, who is glaring at him as though Neyo’s ignoring her is his fault. She enjoys blaming him for anything that doesn’t meet her high feline standards. 

A two minute shower and he’s in the kitchen, confirming that Enentee does still have a ten-day’s worth of kibble in her bowl despite her pathetic wailing. When he tells her Neyo skipping a single day makes no difference given her current food supply, she fluffs her tail and demands to be let out, no doubt to seek out Neyo and lament Vaughn’s terrible treatment of her. 

Tooka taken care of, he turns the caf maker on and pulls up their digital calendar on the holo display. He needs to clear Neyo’s schedule for the day. 

According to the calendar Neyo’s supposed to have a play-date with a group of Littles this afternoon. That will need to be rescheduled for later in the week. And probably tomorrow’s too. Neyo is always careful to ensure his moods don’t touch the Littles directly, and days like this leave him far too unbalanced to be around vulnerable, unpredictable young children. But Vaughn is well aware that having to cancel on them is just one more thing for Neyo to torture himself over. 

The day after tomorrow is simply designated Edee. The exact details of which are probably only known to Gree, as it’s his turn to host. Vaughn just knows he’s supposed to send Neyo along without dinner and not expect him back before morning. 

Edee gatherings are always good for Neyo, even if they are sometimes more tense than straight out pleasant. But the four assholes who once called Alpha-6 their trainer are working through the distances between them. And helping Neyo heal and adjust to having brothers and squad mates again, not just troops assigned to him. 

Grabbing his caf, Vaughn sits down to comm Colt, both for help and to cancel the day’s playdate.

Shaak Ti answers, a touch of laughter peeking through her Jedi serenity. “Good morning, Vaughn. What has you up and about so early?”

He gives her a tired smile. “Good morning, Master Ti. Lovely to see you, as always.” She gives him an amused glare for his formality and he corrects himself. “Lovely to see you, _Shaak_.” At her smile he continues. “I’m calling to see if Colt is available to stop by today; Neyo had a rough night. And to let you know that he won’t be able to make his session with the Littles today. Probably not tomorrow’s either.”

Her eyes soften and sadden. “Difficult days happen to each of us. I’m glad he has you to support him when they come.”

Vaughn smiles. Shaak Ti is wonderfully sweet and her kindness is a balm to him, though it would drive Neyo into a snarling rage if he could hear her words. “Thank you, Shaak.”

She nods and gestures off the edge of the holo pickup. “Hold strong, Vaughn. Healing takes time, but it does happen.”

Colt trades placed with Shaak, looking far more awake and formally dressed than Vaughn expected at 0500. He has a sinking feeling. 

“How bad is he?,” Colt asks, obviously having heard the conversation with Master Ti. 

Vaughn winces. “He left without over-feeding Enentee. Which only happens on his worst mornings. But he was already leaving the house when I woke up.”

“Damn.” Colt pauses and glances at something off screen. “Shaak and I both are in meetings for the Vod’ikase educational changes all day. It’s something I can’t delegate, unfortunately. I take it Bacara is also unavailable?”

Vaughn nods. “The Nova camping trip left yesterday morning. Alpha-6 went with them.”

Colt’s eyes tighten. “And Neyo will mostly dodge the issue if you call in Valor.” He pauses, considering, “Let me check something.” 

Vaughn hears the clicking of datapad keys before Colt speaks again. “Ponds is in meetings with Cody today and tomorrow, which means Fox is on-planet as well. Call him. Or Gree, if Fox is unavailable. But try Fox first.” Colt reads off the comm code for Fox’s personal comm, then Gree’s.

Vaughn nods, relieved to have a plan of action, but also apprehensive at the plan including Fox. The former Guard commander is the Edee he is least comfortable with. But that doesn’t matter if calling him helps Neyo. 

“Thank you, Colt. We both appreciate it.”

Colt gives him a wry grin. “You’re welcome. But don’t be surprised if Neyo is more annoyed than grateful at first. Fox can be helpful when he wants. But he does so in a very Fox way.”

Vaughn snickers. After the success of ‘You’re Foxed’, Fox’s style of helping was well known. Throughout the galaxy, not just the Vode. “If he gets Neyo out of his head and talking about what’s wrong, I have no complaints. I just don’t want Neyo to keep stewing in this.”

Colt’s smile tightens. “Agreed. Thank you, for always helping him through this. It helps to know he’s not alone.”

Vaughn smiles back. “I love him. I just wish I could do more.”

“You do more than you realize.” Colt glances at his chrono. “I have to go. But please let me know how he’s doing?”

Vaughn nods. “I will. Thank you.” 

He disconnects the call, pausing to take a deep breath before comming Commander Fox. 

Vaugh winces internally at the rank. Fox intimidates him just a bit. He always feels like a younger brother trying to impress his elders around him. It doesn’t help that Fox has never actually addressed him by name, despite being fully aware of his relationship with Neyo. Vaughn is fairly certain it stems from being introduced via Rex during the war. 

The comm goes through and a very irritated, half asleep Fox glares at him, arms crossed over his chest. “Not Blonde CT, you have any karking idea what fucking time it is?”

Vaughn refuses to appear unsettled, but he does get straight to the point. “Early. But I need your help if you’re available today. Colt suggested I comm you.”

Fox’s eyes sharpen, sleep rapidly clearing from his gaze. “What’s wrong with Neyo?” 

Vaughn is sharply reminded that Fox is just as terrifyingly intelligent as Neyo and infinitely better at reading people. 

“He had a bad night. He left before dawn and will wander the forest, stewing over this and punishing himself for days without someone to bring him back. Usually Bacara or Colt help drag him out. But they’re not unavailable today. And it can’t be me.”

Fox’s dark eyes watch him, appraising. “Why not you? Why not Valor?” The wording is combative; the tone is not. He’s asking genuine questions. 

Vaughn sighs. “With Valor he packs it away, makes them his focus. It will snap him out of it for maybe a day? But as soon as they leave whatever this is comes back. He doesn’t deal with it. Just hides it.”

Fox nods once, accepting the answer, but repeats his other questions. “Why not you? He listens to you. More than most.” There’s nothing begrudging or irritated in the questions. Just simple observation, which surprises Vaughn more than it probably should. 

He sighs quietly. “He said if it was me, I became part of it. I don’t know what ‘it’ is. But I make this worse, not better.”

Fox watches him intently for a long moment before dragging a palm across his face. “Give me half an hour. And don’t karking lose him before I get there!”

* * *

Fox slows the speeder to a stop in front of the house Neyo shares with his boy toy. A nice place, butted up against the forest a fair distance outside Concordia. There are surprisingly lovely design details worked into the architecture. Fox isn’t sure who is more responsible for that, Neyo or his CT, but they did a good job. Shame none of the idiots on his show ever manage to do that. 

Said CT is standing on the front porch, mug of caf in hand, as Fox exits the speeder. “Thank you for coming, Fox. We both appreciate it. Even if Neyo won’t say so.” He tries for a wry smile, but it’s really just a grimace. 

That alone tells Fox how concerned he is. Vaughn is all boundless enthusiasm and love of laughter, tempered with a kindness that Fox is impressed he’s held on to after all these years. But now his laugh lines hold only tension, and no humor dances behind his eyes. 

Fox nods. “What am I walking into?”

Vaughn takes a moment to sip from his caf. “He’s in crisis but doesn’t want to think he is. He finds every little way he can come up with to torture himself. He always comes back a little bruised and bleeding. So I think it’s some sort of penance. He’s out there barefoot. I’m lucky he’s agreed to put shoes on when it’s freezing.

“Fuck.” Troopers in crisis were a fairly common occurrence on Coruscant. On leave, out of combat zones, and in the presence of alcohol, Vode were finally able to start processing everything that had happened on their last combat tour. Guard troopers all knew the signs and how to talk them into a safe space to begin working through things. But CCs in crisis weren’t something he dealt with often. And Neyo had more trauma than most. Karking Sith on a stick. 

“He give you any idea what it is that sets him off?” Fox asks, making a point not to phrase his question as an attack. 

Vaughn shakes his head. “Something he dreams about. I’ve been able to work out that it’s something to do with his training, back on Kamino. With Priest. But that’s all I know.”

Fox nods calmly. A deliberate effort to show Vaughn he’s in control and has this handled; no need to worry a little brother more than he already is. But internally, he’s damning Priest and his Death Watch trainers to rot in every hell he’s ever heard of. It’s more than they deserve for the hurt wrought on Neyo and Edee and all the other cadets they trained and squads they ripped apart. 

When they left Coruscant, Fox swore he would never again hide now he felt about a situation. But right now a little brother is calling him in because Neyo needs help. Watching Fox murderously swear vengeance on Priest isn’t going to help put him at ease. 

“Where does he usually go?” Fox asks instead, focusing on the problem he can actually address. Neyo’s already had too much time to spiral, given how long it took to drive out here. No point in giving him more time to torment himself. 

Vaughn indicates a narrow trail head to the right of the house. “He usually haunts the lake that’s about a mile north of us. His tooka headed that way when I let her out. So it's a reasonable guess that’s where he went this time too.”

“Is there another trail leading back here?” Fox asks, wondering just how hard it’s going to be to find his brother. 

Vaughn shakes his head. “No, it continues past the lake for several miles. It’s just an animal track we’ve cleared enough to follow to the lake and back at night. Nothing fancy. I know Bacara’s found him several miles out past the lake at least once.”

Fox gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and turns to head out. “Kot,” he says, tapping his wrist twice. No harm in wishing them all a little strength. 

“Commander Fox. Thank you. I know this won’t be easy...” He trails off at Fox’s look.

“He’s my brother too. And this isn’t my first crisis situation. I’ll bring him back, Vaughn.”

Neyo’s CT nods and let’s him go. 

Fox stalks across their front lawn, taking in the details of the forest surrounding the narrow trail head. Unsurprisingly, there is little sign of Neyo’s passage. If he’s in the kind of mood Fox suspects, tracking him down will be the first challenge.

He pauses a few feet into the tree line, pushes his rage at Priest away in order to focus, and takes in all the details: Pine forest in late autumn. Scattered deciduous trees mixed in, their leaves almost entirely fallen this late in the season. Early morning, sun’s only been up for an hour. Small animals are quietly rustling. Far fewer than Fox would expect this early on a surprisingly warm, clear day. It’s the only obvious indication of Neyo’s agitated presence. 

Prey recognizes a predator passing through. 

All of his tracking experience during the war was in urban environments. It takes a moment to shift back to what he learned about forest tracking during training. Slowly he bends down. Observes the slight displacement and cracking of pine needles. Two small, fallen leaves flipped dark side up. A stick cracked but not broken, wood light and fresh. 

Nothing above the forest floor is disturbed. All GAR soldiers and senior cadets have survival and evasion training. But given Valor’s combat specialty, it was a way of life for Neyo. How he survived sneaking into hostile territory. 

Fox carefully follows the subtle indications of Neyo’s path, paying no attention to older more obvious boot prints left from earlier trips. At least he can confirm Neyo definitely came this way recently and hasn’t yet returned. 

It’s slow fucking going, following every little indication of human presence while deliberately not hiding his own. He’s not trying to sneak up on Neyo; that would be dangerous for both of them. Good thing swearing comes so karking naturally. 

It takes nearly half a fucking hour to reach the lake, but Fox is confident Neyo hasn’t been back this way yet, nor has he bailed into the forest to avoid him. A very real possibility given Neyo’s probable state of mind and love of being an annoying little shit. 

The lake itself is highlighted a silver blue from the morning sun, placid except for the occasional ripples of fish surfacing to catch insects. Birds are singing, and more small animals scurry about, having decided Fox is karking eccentric but not there to harm them. The perfect time for a hike if he were the kind of asshole who liked tromping through the underbrush and scaring fluffy critters at fucking dawn.

He doggedly follows the trail around to a clear, sandy section of shore. Pieces of logs have been arranged around a small fire pit, forming a bench seat with end tables facing the water. It’s cozy and fucking cute and currently abandoned. 

The sand, however, has fresh tooka prints. Dainty little steps leading to and from the water. 

Fox smirks, noting that the paw prints return to the trail and continue away from the house. He loses them after that in the packed earth, but at least he’s not the only one who thinks Neyo passed by the clearing. 

It’s a solid, slow twenty swear-filled minutes of careful tracking before he comes to a rocky outcrop overlooking the water and finds what can only be Neyo’s tooka. 

She’s laying on her belly, paws tucked underneath, eyes laser focused on something hidden in the trees. Her tail twitches with the smug satisfaction of a hunter who has her prey cornered. 

Fox snorts and addresses the forest. “The mighty Valor Commander laid low by his own fucking tooka.” 

He waits expectantly for a long, silent moment. 

Neyo materializes from behind a small copse of trees, snarling. “Not my tooka.”

Fox raises an eyebrow, making sure to wear his most asshole-ish expression. “ _Oh_? I think you fucking forgot to tell her that.”

Neyo glares, his eyes radiating rage, movements menacing and tense. “What are you doing here?”

Fox rolls his eyes, but keeps his shoulders relaxed and hands open. “Going on a karking nature walk.”

“I’m fine,” Neyo hisses. “Go back to your glittering idiot.”

Fox is unimpressed. Fashion and romantic awareness aside, Ponds and Vaughn are extremely similar. And other than putting up with the two of them, neither one is an idiot. 

He refuses to take the bait. “You have tree sap on your blacks, Ney’ika,” he taunts, instead poking at The GAR regulation undersuit that Neyo’s wearing. 

Neyo’s eyes flash a mix of fury and something else Fox can’t quite pick out, that almost looks like shame. But Neyo’s moving before he can work out what it means, stomping noisily onto the trail and setting off further around the lake. 

Not-his-tooka follows, giving Fox a karking superior look just to make sure he fucking _knows_ she found Neyo first. He gestures rudely at her before joining them, still puzzling over what he’d just seen. 

Rage was a common reaction from troopers in crisis on Coruscant. But it was usually the flash hiding the actual source of the trauma. And talking them through to a more stable place usually meant finding the source. Why the karking hell did Neyo’s blacks fucking elicit a reaction of _shame_?

GAR uniforms can be a touchy subject among the Vode. A reminder of those lost to some. Comfortable and familiar in a galaxy filled with so many choices it was overwhelming and exhausting to others. And forever a symbol of the Republic that had held them as slaves. 

Ponds had burned his blacks, replacing them with rust and deep blue undersuits and swearing he’d never wear the GAR blacks again. Fox had added his own to Ponds’ fire with less outright glee but no less enthusiasm. He wasn’t fucking property anymore. And he refused to still wear the symbols of those who saw the Vode as nothing more than cannon fodder. But he felt no shame at having worn them. He wasn’t fucking less for having been part of the GAR. 

The same seemed true for Colt and Gree. Also the uppity shit and his idiot Shebse. Regret and rage and pride all mixed together in their feelings about the Grand Army of the Republic. But shame for having served wasn’t included. The Vode were who and what they were. 

Fox watches every detail of Neyo as they tromp through deeper forest, the trail narrowing back to animal paths as they go. The slightest tremor ripples across his rigid shoulders, almost invisible except that Fox is looking for it. Remembers it. From the time before Priest. When Neyo was tired and upset and cold. 

Fox can’t karking remember _when_ or _why_ Neyo was upset. Just remembers curling up with his vod. Cuddling with him until sleep and safety and warmth stopped the shaking. 

Fox ignores the furtive glances Neyo throws his way, wishing he could remember. Something about that memory feels important to understanding why Neyo is ashamed of wearing his blacks. 

Neyo and Vaughn had made such a fucking adorable show of getting slick new gunmetal-colored undersuits for their armor several months ago. Vaughn had enthusiastically informed everyone he’d cut his blacks into ribbons and turned them into karking pot holders. Torrent had been fucking thrilled. Because of course they were. 

Neyo had given the impression he’d destroyed his blacks too. But now that Fox thinks back, he’d never come out and said it. Lie by omission and assumption. To what end?

Neyo had spent the evening trying not to show how fucking proud he was at the visible marker of his relationship with Vaughn. It had been so fucking adorable, Fox had needled him for it throughout dinner. 

And Neyo had reveled in it; soaking up the camaraderie like a sponge.

He did that a lot now. Wanting so desperately to be included but not quite able to hide his discomfort and fear of no longer belonging. 

Something about that tugs at the back of his mind. Not fitting anymore. Had they outgrown something that night? Was that what Neyo had been so upset about?

The trail widens slightly and they step out onto another sandy piece of lake shore. Neyo shows no signs of slowing down, but Fox stops. The tooka does too. 

Stalking through nature isn’t helping anyone. And that is definitely blood starting to smear into Neyo’s foot prints. But it karking pisses Fox off that he appreciates the tooka also having had enough. 

“This is how you crisis? Stomping around a lake at ass o’clock in the morning? Just a pissed off vod and his tooka?”

Neyo spins, “Go to hell.”

Fox snorts. “Go to hell. Go to fucking hell. That’s it?” he taunts, deliberately antagonizing his brother. 

Neyo, impossibly, stiffens further. His hands have to ache from clenching. And Fox isn’t actually sure he can see out of his eyes with that glare. But no words come. 

Fox refuses to give ground. If Neyo actually wants a fight, there is enough space here to minimize broken bones. Because it will be a fight.

“We went to hell. You went to hell. And now we’re here. So what sent you back there?” Fox demands, stance open. He’s pissed and worried, but not trying to appear threatening. And if Neyo does attack he’s going to have to move fast. 

But Neyo just stands there, a hair’s breadth from a murderous meltdown. Fox doesn’t back down but doesn’t press further. He can and fucking will wait this out. 

“What’s sending you back there?” He asks again, more gently this time, seeing something stirring in Neyo’s gaze. Taking a final guess he switches to battlesign. Easier than verbal. _Why. Interrogative._

The murder slowly drains from Neyo’s eyes, leaving shame and self-loathing clearly visible. The aggression in his stance evaporates, leaving him on the edge of shattering. 

_Belong. Declarative._

The niggling memory snaps into focus as the air flies from Fox’s lungs. 

_They’re supposed to be in bed, but 2224 dared them to sneak out after lights out and prove they’d done it by stealing extra rations from the Alpha’s mess._

_They’ve made it all the way there, grabbed an extra packet of breakfast grains out of the mess pantry, and are starting to head back to their bunks when they hear 6 talking with Alpha-54 in the eating area._

_The alphas are upset and distracted. It’s the only way they could slip past the main entrance to sneak in through the cook’s door._

_It had been fun and exciting on the way in. They were going to prove to those karking Shebse that Edee was better! 1016 and 1004 were covering for them in case 6 came looking._

_But it’s not fun now._

_One of 54’s cadets was badly hurt in a training accident. A trainer named Priest had been making adjustments to the equipment, planning a new training regimen for his upcoming recruits. He hadn’t reset it correctly. The cadet is dead and 54 is_ mad _. At the trainer for resetting things enough to fake the setup tests, but not actually have it work safely. At the Snakes for not doing enough to heal the injured cadet. At himself for not being able to protect his younger brother._

_6 is angry too, but he calls it an accident. There’s no value in deliberately injuring cadets to the point the Snakes won’t heal them he says. It’s bad for business, he says._

_The bitterness in 6’s voice resonates inside 1010’s little body. He hates that voice. It’s never good when 6 sounds like that. It means the Snakes are looking for trouble and 6 is pushing them to protect them. 6’s job is to train them to be the best soldiers they can be, so the Snakes can’t come after them for_ business reasons. 

_1010 agrees with 6. It’s the only option that makes sense. Training is hard. It has to be. To make them the best. To be everything the Republic and the Jedi will need in their army. They are supposed to fight for them, to die for them. It’s why they’ve been made. They can’t do that if they’re already dead._

_And they’re_ CCs _. They’re going to be_ commanders _. There aren’t as many of them. And they cost more to make. 6 tells them that, to make sure they know how hard they have to work and why they have to be the best. And why he’s proud of them._

_No one would waste a CC. That doesn’t make sense. Not if they were meeting benchmarks and health metrics. That was why they always had to meet them._

_Alpha-54 says he’s not so sure. The accident was elaborately set up. And Priest has been sniffing around his cadets. And when asked, Priest had seemed interested, not concerned. He reminds 6 that Priest has been sniffing around 6’s cadets too. And that Priest can pull anyone he wants. Then 54 leaves._

_8826 squeezes his hand and tugs him towards the kitchen door. They have to go_ now _. They’ll miss their chance! They’ll never get past 6 if he isn’t distracted!_

_1010 can feel shakes in the hand he’s holding as they slip into the hallway. When they pass the main door, he glances in. 6 is still sitting there, staring at the table._

_They both let out a gust of air when they make it across the doorway without being spotted. So lucky! Little by little, they sneak back to their wing and 1004 lets them back inside, glad they’re safe and have the proof to show ‘those karking Shebse’._

_But 8826 is still shaking and 1010 is starting to think it’s not from the cold hallways or excitement. The grip of his hand is too tight on 1010’s own. They slip back into their dorm room, and 8826 crawls immediately into 1010’s pod._

_“What’s wrong?” 1010 whispers._

_”I know that trainer. Priest. He watches you. What if 54’s right? What if he’s trying to take you?” 8826 asks, huddling in close. “What if he hurts you?”_

_1010 hugs him tight. “He won’t. We’re 6’s Assholes. And no one can tell us apart! We have to stay together. It’s where we_ belong.”

_“Together,” 8826 whispers. And 1010 hugs him closer._

The memory snaps. 

Fox focuses back on Neyo, trying to figure out how much time he just lost and how much damage that time has done. 

Neyo is watching him wearily, a brittle mess trying very hard to appear like he’s not about to self-destruct.

Fox shoves the memory aside, only taking what he needs to help Neyo. This isn’t the time for him to process his own issues. This is about his brother. 

Who believes he belongs in hell. 

Fox starts to talk and is surprised when his voice cracks on a dry throat. Swallows. Starts again. “Why Neyo? Why would you belong in hell?”

Posture as unassuming and open as he can make it, he slowly moves closer, before sitting down in the sand next to Neyo, facing the water. 

It takes several long moments before Neyo does the same, movements jerky and uncoordinated. Settling beside him, but leaving space to avoid touching. 

He’s still silent. But it’s progress. 

The tooka curls on Neyo’s other side as though she’s bestowing great favor. He visibly hesitates before resting a hand on her flank. 

In the silence, Fox slowly tugs at the thread of memory and Neyo’s current admission, trying to fit pieces together to help his brother. 

There was no question that Neyo had once belonged entirely to Edee. He’d been safe, or as safe as any vod ever felt in training. But once that was lost, he most likely never felt anything like that again. 

Neyo’s life had been defined by meeting Priest’s precise definition of desirable monster. And it _was_ a monster he wanted. No empathy or mercy. Just relentless ruthlessness and impossible skill. 

But these are things Fox knows now. He didn’t fucking know it then. 

He’d known Priest was tougher than most trainers. He’d known Alpha-6 had very quickly seen the mistake of letting Neyo go. He’d known 6 made sure Edee was just as dangerous and capable as anyone handpicked for specialized training, and he knew it was so no one would fucking come near the rest of them.

But there is a difference between the _guarded, methodical, dangerous, wounded_ that now defines Fox, Colt, and Gree and the brittle, soul-wrenching damage he is seeing in Neyo. 

It’s not a commander agonizing over the men he couldn’t save. They _all_ know that horror. Even the Guard. It’s awful and aching and keeps them up at night. But it was who they were. That was part of the utter misery of war. What they had been born and bred for. What they’d escaped and left behind. 

And Fox knows Neyo knows that trauma. He’d very quickly left an Edee dinner one night to help one of his Valors who had broken down over losing brothers. When he’d returned hours later, exhausted and worn, they’d all talked. About the best ways to help their men. How they each dealt with it. All in Edee fashion of course. 

So what makes a man believe he belongs in hell? What makes someone as strong as Neyo break under its weight? 

What did it take to become the monster Priest wanted? To survive Priest’s training?

The answer is terrifyingly obvious now that Fox knows to look for it: you hurt your brothers. To whatever degree Priest demands. Because even as a cadet, Fox knew that defying a trainer was a sure way to be decommissioned. And given what he now knows of Priest, Fox wonders if that _wasn’t_ the worst that could happen. 

It takes all his considerable self-control to keep his shock and horror from showing. It’s not at Neyo. It’s fucking _for_ him. But he can’t take the chance it would be misunderstood. 

“You are not the one who belongs in hell. Priest carries those sins. Not you.”

Neyo’s head snaps up to look at him. A mix of fear and disbelief and maybe the _tiniest_ bit of relief on his face. “How the fucking hell do you figure that?” he hisses. “You don’t _know_!”

Fox looks at him steadily. “Hurting brothers was never _your_ choice. You weren’t _given_ a choice.”

Neyo backs away, scuttling up from the sand like he’s been burned. And Fox sees genuine fear flash across his face just for a moment. 

Fox doesn’t move, but forces himself to speak. To blatantly acknowledge what he doesn’t want to fully believe, even now. “The deaths of Priest’s cadets are on _his_ hands. Even if he used yours to make it happen.”

Neyo freezes halfway back to the trail. If it wasn’t for his heaving chest, he’d look like a statue.  
“You can’t mean that,” he says weakly, after a long moment of silence. 

Fox snorts. “Yes. I fucking can. You were a kid. With no way to defend yourself. And Priest was a fucking manipulative sadistic bastard even by our standards.”

Neyo stays facing the forest. “But I survived it all. Did what he wanted.”

“You blame any of Priest’s other cadets?,” Fox challenges. 

Silence. 

“None of you are to blame for what he put you through.” Fox changes tack, having made his point even if Neyo can’t believe it yet. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you and Faie and Bacara, because Davin is a fucking bastard too, all protect the Littles like shriekhawks, making _extra fucking sure_ no one does to them what was done to you.”

More silence. 

“You care about your men. About the Littles. Bacara. Edee. Vaughn. Your tooka. Priest would hate that if he knew. He didn’t take that from you. No matter how hard he tried.”

Neyo mutters something that sounds like “Not my tooka” and Fox just rolls his eyes. His brother is fucking ridiculous. But he is starting to calm down if he can focus enough to toss out that shit. 

“Bacara and Colt told you the same fucking thing, didn’t they,” Fox states, absolutely confident in that fact. 

Neyo gingerly returns to sit beside him, confirming Fox is right. 

Not his tooka settles in his lap, bestowing attention like some sort of feline royalty. If she’s not actually Neyo’s tooka, it’s only because she claimed him first. Fucking adorable. 

Fox subtly shifts to rest his shoulder against Neyo’s. “Hell was training with him. And then hell was the war.” Fox says quietly. “You don’t belong there. You never did.”

Neyo leans into him, and Fox wraps an arm around his shoulder. Holds his brother tight to his chest. Rigid trembles shift to the shaking of quiet tears.

Fox just stays silent, stares out at the lake, and tries not to think too hard about how much he needs to destroy something. His own grief for Neyo and rage at Priest will have to be addressed. But not until he has time and space, and Ponds to ground him. Now he just focuses on holding his brother. Making sure he fucking knows Fox isn’t judging him or withdrawing from him. 

Neyo huddles close for several long moments. It’s the first time since before Priest that Fox has seen him be still and calm. It’s a drained and exhausted stillness, but he’s unguarded. For once not bracing for a hit. It contrasts so sharply with the cautious, predatory edge he always wears. 

Fox pushes the thought away as fast as he can, before his temper flares beyond his ability to hide it. Long slow deep breath. Then another. 

He gets why Colt said to call him. He needed to know this, to understand _why_ Neyo is the way he is now. Instead of just watching and adapting to his temperament changes in an effort to help him feel more comfortable. 

Does Gree know? Fox suspects not. But he too needs to understand. This explains so much about the man Neyo became. And why blending him back into Edee requires so much effort from all of them. But it’s not his place to tell. That right belongs to Neyo alone. 

Doesn’t mean he isn’t going to comm Colt and tell him to make sure Gree is the one who gets to bond with nature the next time Vaughn calls for backup. 

When Neyo finally pulls away, Fox lets him go, pleased he’s settling down, but missing the closeness. Unwilling to lose contact entirely, he gently brushes his shoulder against his brother’s, only leaning into the touch after Neyo does. 

“Your tracking skills aren’t too bad,” Neyo says, apropos of nothing, and the considering tone has Fox side-eyeing him, even before he adds, “for a man with grey hair who needs help from a tooka.”

Fox chokes back a laugh. Neyo is a little shit and always has been. But it’s good to see it, especially now. Even if he is making cracks about Fox’s hair. “Fuck you.”

Neyo giggles, and Fox can still hear the traces of tears and relief. They both rest in silence for a moment. Then Neyo speaks again. “I blame Torrent for Vaughn’s abysmal caf-making skills. But otherwise he’s a good cook.”

Fox eyes him. “Fucking Torrent,” he says with a nod, accepting the invitation. 

The tooka is _extremely displeased_ when they stand up to start the trip back.  


* * *

Vaughn is puttering around the kitchen, making an elaborate midmeal to kill time when he spots Neyo and Fox exiting the forest, headed toward the house with Enentee in the lead.

Even from a distance Neyo looks worn and tired. And it looks like he’s trying to hide a limp. But he’s not the ball of barely-controlled emotion Vaughn feared. Just exhausted. 

Fox, on the other hand, looks like he picked up whatever tension Neyo let go and is trying to pretend otherwise. He’s also clearly keeping an eye on Neyo as he walks, so he’s probably torn up the soles of his feet again. 

Vaughn tosses the vegetables and peppers he’s sautéing, glad he made enough food for four, in case Fox stays and invites Ponds along. It’s more than they need. But leftovers keep. And if it makes Neyo’s brother feel welcome, it’s absolutely worth the effort. 

And it’s kept him busy when nothing else could. 

He’d tried directing his nervousness into painting, but massacring the scene he’d started a few days before only added to his frustration. 

He tosses the skillet one more time, and is pouring the vegetables into a serving bowl when the kitchen door slides open. 

“Welcome back!” he calls as they enter, trying to project his normal cheerfulness and not the competing mix of concern and relief running through him. “I decided to cook, so I hope you’re hungry. Fox, if Ponds is free, he’s invited too. Otherwise I’m sending you home with a care package.”

Neyo gives him that small but genuine smile. The one Vaughn knows is only shared with him. A quiet thank you for understanding and for welcoming his brother so warmly. “Cleaning up,” he grunts, continuing to pretend he’s not limping and definitely not heading for the medkit in the master bedroom fresher. 

Fox takes in all the food waiting to be served in the counter and then side-eyes the fresh pot of caf that’s just finished brewing. “Food sounds great. Thanks.”

Vaughn can’t help the laughter that bubbles up.

**Author's Note:**

> So many feels!! These Edee boys are wonderful, loveable, reticent bastards whom I adore. And who make me pull my hair out. 
> 
> Enentee, the absolute gem that she is, is entirely Projie’s. I make no claim to her at all. (I wouldn’t dare anyway. She’s far too regal for the likes of me. 😁) Alpha-6 is also Projie’s OC. Both are used with permission. 
> 
> Chaavla and Gish of Valor Battalion are my own. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Sol! Oya, Vode!


End file.
